


299 - Stacking Shelves In The Twilight Zone

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 11:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18603496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Just a cute little mini fic about meeting Van during your night fill shift at work.





	299 - Stacking Shelves In The Twilight Zone

Some nights you would take great care in stacking the grocery store shelves. You'd make each label face forward and each row line up perfectly. There was a benign pride in that. Other nights, the boring night fill job you took to pay your rent took its toll on you. The first few hours of the shift would be alright. Midnight would roll by. It would be one am… two am… Then it got hard. 

Those weird hours between two am and the end of your shift felt like The Twilight Zone… Time was warped. Anybody that appeared in the small, 24 hour grocery store was probably an alien or something equally as nefarious. You felt spaced out at the best of times. So, when he appeared in the aisle, seemingly out of nowhere, you thought maybe he was a harbinger of death.

There was no audible footsteps or movement clocked out the corner of your eyes. It was like he just manifested from the three am void in front of the… sanitary items? What would a harbinger of death need a tampon for? 

You watched him for a moment, looked him up and down. Black boots. Black jeans. Black leather jacket that looked like it had seen hell and clawed its way back to earth. His hair wasn't black though; it was a dirty basic brown that shined oily under the store's fluorescent lights. The guy wasn't moving at all. You figured he probably needed help… 

Technically you didn't _have_ to help him. You were on stocking, not customer service. But, the one other person working, the one servicing customers, was probably asleep with his feet up on the counter or his face buried in his architecture textbook. Harry was useless like that. 

At the literal exact moment you took one step towards the guy, the fluorescent above your head flickered. It was spooky as fuck and you hesitated to make another move forward. You glanced over your shoulder, then back. 

Oh. 

"Hiya, love. Do ya work here?" 

He had a Little Comets band shirt on. It had holes in the fabric and was half tucked into his jeans. His belt was the wrong size; he'd stabbed a hole through the leather himself to presumably make it tight enough. The function of the belt was questionable anyway with jeans that tight. Jeans that were put on before his socks, you concluded. His surprisingly matching socks stuck out of his boots and over the cuffs of his jeans. He may have been a harbinger from the back, but front on looked like he'd rolled into bed straight from the moshpit, then quickly got dressed in the dark. There wasn't a foreboding thing about him. 

"Ah, yeah… Hi. Yeah, I do…" you answered, walking down the aisle towards him. 

He smiled and it was far, far from angelic… more… British bunny… but it was a beautiful thing. "Thank God. I ain't got a clue what I'm doin' here…" 

Coming to stand next to him, you could smell the night he'd had. Cigarettes. Beer, probably spilt on his boots. The strangely specific good/bad smell indie boys like him had. 

There was a warmth coming from him too. Not hellfire, but sunshine. 

"What do you need?" 

"Well, we're on our way home, right, from the pub. Ya know that sleazy little joint just down the way?"

"The one with the really gross bathrooms? Like from Trainspotting?" you asked. 

He nodded furiously, grinning. "Yeah. That'd be the fuckin' one… So a place like that ain't gonna have band-aids and all that," 

"Is… that what you need?" Looking to the shelves you were standing in front of, it was a little away from the first aid supplies. 

"Nah. So, me, me mate, and me mate's new girlfriend are on our way home. Back to his place. 'Cause she comes out the toilets at the pub sayin' she needs a tampon and a hot water bottle, but there ain't one girl at the whole pub. Can you fuckin' believe that?!" 

"I can… It's gross there. And it's like… proper late," you replied. 

The guy paused for a moment, looking at you carefully. Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah… Yeah, I guess… Anyways… Yiros place is on a different road, innit? So, they're doin' that and I'm here getting what his missus needs." 

Narrowing your eyes in concentration, you tried to figure out if you'd missed something. "Wait… Why would they not do this and you get the yiros?" 

He grinned and it was the exact type of smile a child would give you to try to hide the mess they'd made while you weren't looking. 

"Ah… Well, it's just one of them, innit?" was all he offered. 

"One of… what?" 

" _Them_ … Nah, but, ain't gonna show my face 'round there for a bit, I reckon. Much better suited to going shoppin' anyway," 

"Riiiiiight, okay. Well… Did your friend's girlfriend tell you what she needs exactly?"

The guy pulled his phone out his pocket, found something in it, then handed it to you. The first thing you noticed was how old the phone was. Surely it was one of the first cell phones ever to exist. The second thing was all the bumps, dents, and scratches. What he meant for you to pay attention to, however, was the open note on the screen. 

_tampons night pads jaf cakes milk if u think georgie dont have ne_

"Alright… We can do this. Go get a basket and I'll start the shopping," you told him, handing the seen-better-days phone back. 

"Yes, love! You're a legend!" he cheered. Then, as he took a step forward, he came to a fast and sudden halt, almost falling forward with the momentum. Standing again, he stuck a hand out. "I'm Van," 

"Y/N," you introduced yourself, a little too charmed. 

"Y/N. Cool. Nice to meet ya. I'll get that basket, yeah?"

Van was gone and back before you really even noticed. After putting tampons, overnight pads, and stick-on heat pack in the basket, you lead him to the biscuits and cakes. He seemed really pleased with himself when he decided to buy not only the requested Jaffa Cakes, but other packets of biscuits. 

"She might want a little variety, ya know?" Van explained. "Who don't love a Jammie Dodger at four in the mornin'?" 

Last on his list was milk, then you walked Van to the front of the store. As predicted, Harry's face was hidden in a book. 

"Come on. I'll serve you over at this one," you said, moving over to register two. 

Loading Van's purchases into a bag was automatic. He didn't seem like the type of person who could successfully carry multiple items for long distances. Come to think of it… 

"How far is home?" you asked. When Van involuntarily raised an eyebrow. "Bit dangerous walking about at this hour. It's like…" You checked the time on the register. "Almost half past three," 

"Eh. Tougher than I look," he replied, shrugging and grinning. 

Van paid cash, and entirely as expected, the cash was in the form of crumpled up notes and coins fished from all pockets. He didn't seem embarrassed and you were glad. His shamelessness was endearing. 

"Think you'll be her hero," you said to Van as you handed over the bag. 

"What makes you think I ain't already?" he quipped. 

"Well, she's your mate's girlfriend and not yours, for a start." 

Van laughed and nodded. "That's the tragedy of it all, ain't it? Hero without a girlfriend," 

"Yeah, yeah, fuckin' tragic," Harry suddenly interjected, putting his book down with a dramatic thud. "Mate, we all know where this is headin', yeah? Just ask her out already. If you're still kickin' on at this mate's house, take her with. And you, Y/N, you finish in what, thirty minutes? Just fuckin' leave already. Take all this romantic comedy bullshit with you, yeah?" 

With your face going a lovely shade of peachy pink, you were a little afraid to look from Harry back to Van. But then, Van's cracked cackling echoed loudly throughout the store. 

"Well then, love. Whadda' say?"


End file.
